


One Of Those Mornings

by zeuswrites



Category: RWBY
Genre: Explicit Consent, F/F, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 12:57:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1858854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeuswrites/pseuds/zeuswrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake really wants Yang between her legs. Yang really wants herself between Blake's legs. There's nothing stopping them and all goes well.</p><p>RWBY kinkmeme request fill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Of Those Mornings

Even Jaune wouldn't have had trouble waking up on a morning like this. It was 8 am, and the sun was blasting through the window with the zeal of a tax collector, and some bird was obviously intent on singing itself hoarse. Life was loudly demanding her attention and praise.  
  
“Rise and shine, Blakey-wakey!” she heard right next to her head before an obnoxiously loud, wet smooch was planted on her forehead.   
  
Blake stretched, rubbing her thighs together lazily. She opened one eye, and saw that Ruby and Weiss were already dressed; they were the early risers of their team.   
  
Yang, however, was still in her tank top and track pants pajama ensemble, sitting cross-legged on the bed with her back turned to Blake. Blake glanced at Weiss and Ruby, who were busy chatting about some assignment due tomorrow, and she raised her hand to lightly run her fingers up under Yang’s tanktop. She felt her girlfriend twitch under her touch, and she smiled sleepily.  
  
“Ruby, don’t dawdle, I don’t want to be late for breakfast!”  
  
“In a moment, in a moment!” Ruby finally laced up her boot all the way up, and started on the other. “Anyway, as I was saying, I’m just not sure if I chose the best citations, you know? I think I should have used less movie documentaries and more books-- Yang, you’re still not dressed?” Ruby turned towards her sister briefly, Blake retracting her hand from Yang’s breast just in time, and went back to fighting with her miles of shoelaces.   
  
“Well, movie documentaries are mostly based on these books, so I don’t think you missed much. And either way, these historical reels are the perfect source of information on cultural Faunus movements--” Blake’s hand swiftly went back up, flicking its fingertips over a nipple, and Yang wriggled on her butt a little, throwing Blake a sultry  _oh, it's one of THOSE mornings_  look over her shoulder.  
  
“Guys?” Ruby turned back towards Blake and Yang, Blake now sitting up and leaning towards Yang, both glancing at each other with a conspiratory smile. “Breakfast starts in ten minutes, hurry up! It’s  _Friday_!”   
  
Friday meant waffles, and waffles meant bloody murder and savage elbowing of any and all students who proved to be weaker than the rest of the waffle-devouring student body. Arriving a couple of minutes earlier usually allowed one to grab a single waffle and huddle in a corner, devouring it away from jealous eyes. Each Friday, Ruby was the first in line, her usually agreeable nature replaced with cold survival instinct, ready for some sacrifices in the name of greater good, and didn’t leave the hall until she walked on at least ten crying classmates and had at least five delicious trophies on her tray.  
  
Ruby really liked waffles.  
  
Blake threw Yang a smoldering look, shifting a little to rub her legs together, and Yang looked up at her sister with a grin. “Eh, you know what, I’m not that hungry. You guys go on ahead, alright?”  
  
“Don’t take too long! Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and it won’t do to have you fainting in cla--”  
  
Before Weiss could finish the sentence, Yang already turned from the closed and bolted door, watching Blake walk backwards towards the beds, her hips sashaying and a hooked finger enticing Yang to come to her.  
  
Yang was at her girlfriend in a split second, putting hands on both sides of her face and covering her mouth with hers. Blake purred into the kiss, nudging her thigh between Yang’s legs; she ground lightly against Yang, her underwear already feeling damp on Yang’s skin. It sent a pleasant shiver down Yang’s spine, and without breaking the kiss, she let her hands slip down to Blake’s breasts, clad only in a sports bra, kneading them briefly before giving her girlfriend a gentle push. Blake fell backwards with a playful laugh, bouncing on the bed, already reaching her arms out to Yang before she hit the mattress.  
  
Yang settled between Blake’s splayed legs, leaning in for the dark hands sliding up her tanktop, then down, to hook under the waistband of her track pants. Yang tore herself from Blake’s lips for a moment to sit up, both to let Blake pull her trousers down and to offer her a good look of Yang taking her top off in one smooth motion. Like every time, she was rewarded with a soft hitch in Blake’s breath and a murmured  _"dang"_  as her full, heavy breasts bounced free from the constricting fabric. She pulled the top over her head, whipping her hair with flourish and a wink at Blake.  
  
Blake seemed to have completely forgotten about Yang’s pants, her hands wandering up from her hips to under her breasts, cupping her ribs under each boob, lifting them a bit. Yang propped herself on the hips proudly, letting her girlfriend drink in the sight. You don’t want to interrupt people while they’re admiring  _art_ , after all.  
  
Blake hitched her right hand higher, sliding her thumb over the hard nipple, and it seemed to have snapped her back to there and then, because she blinked and licked her lips before returning back to liberating Yang’s ass of her track pants, exposing her girlfriend’s lucky Krafty Krisps © cheese print underwear, adorned with a cartoony mouse staring ahead with a dead, googly-eyed glare from Yang’s crotch.  
  
Yang raised herself to shake off the pants, and leaned in to hover over Blake, her breasts hanging just above her girlfriend’s chest. She stretched languidly, drinking in the way Blake’s pupils dilated as they followed the curve of her torso.  
  
“Anything specific you’d like on this fine morning, o finest of babes?”  
  
“Mmmm.” Blake propped herself on one elbow, using the other free hand to gently pull Yang’s head closer to her lips by the neck. “I want you to fuck me with your fingers. Start slow, then go fast and hard.” She brushed her lips behind Yang’s ear, the effect slightly off due to the grin she couldn’t suppress. “And when I come…” she let the sentence hang, aware that Yang knew the answer.  
  
“...don’t stop or slow down until you come again?” Yang guessed breathlessly, placing a hand against Blake’s sternum and pressing the other girl into the mattress. Every now and then, Blake would - without apparent reason - wake up wanting nothing more but to feel something hard and fast inside her, and by now, Yang considered herself an expert at dealing with the situation efficiently and in style.   
  
Blake laughed quietly, nodding. Then she arched her back, head thrown back, to unhook her bra above the mattress, as Yang pulled her underpants off, flinging them carelessly behind her.  
  
(They were later found in Weiss’ bed, for which they got a relentless and somewhat deserved earful, and were made to change the sheets.)  
  
Blake settled on her back, stuffing a pillow under her head and grabbing it on both sides of her head.   
  
“I’ll make it up to you,” she promised breathlessly, watching Yang settle between her leg, one hand running alongside her girlfriend’s inner thigh, gently pushing Blake’s legs wider apart. She slowly ran the tip of two fingers between Blake’s labia, spreading them a little, then pressing a bit harder when running them up again. Blake let out a small huff, biting her lip and craning her neck to get a better look.  
  
Yang pointedly raised her fingers to her lips, licking them slowly with a conspiratory wink. Blake’s vulva twitched visibly, and the Faunus let her head drop back hard enough to make both girls jump up slightly on the mattress.  
  
“You know what, to hell with being slow,” Blake said shakily, tightening her grip on the pillow. “Yang, _fuck me_.”  
  
Her muscles tightened as the first finger entered her easily, curling inside her. Blake grabbed Yang’s wrist impatiently and pulled it forward, burying the finger inside her to the hilt. “Yang,  _please_ don’t tease me right now” she whispered with a hint of irritation. Yang laughed a little, thinking herself hilarious, but she complied.  
  
She pulled her finger almost completely, and added two more to it, sliding them inside Blake with little more effort, but feeling her stretch and tighten around them. “Oh,  _hell_  yes” Blake gasped. “I want it hard-- a little faster--  _yes!_ " she propped herself on her elbows, stretching her legs even wider, her thigh muscles visibly straining, and her abdomen twitching along with shudders of pleasure. Yang picked up a barely merciful pace, screwing Blake straightforwardly. It wasn’t the first time her girlfriend begged her exactly for this. Why, she was pretty much a professional. “Yang. Yang, I love you and your stupid boyshorts. Oooh my  _god_.” Blake’s head tilted back, and her lips parted, for a while letting out nothing more but increasingly wanton whimpers.  
  
Blake was a fast shooter, and it wasn’t long until her moans built up into ones loud enough that, if their neighbors weren’t all young athletes who required three trays of breakfast to make it to lunch hour, and thus were all at the breakfast hall, would have gotten them detention. Her feet scuffled erratically on the sheets, and she curled in on herself a little as she came, contracting around Yang’s fingers.  
  
“Want a break?” Yang asked half-teasingly, and Blake just grabbed the back of her neck to pull her into a sloppy, desperate kiss.   
  
“More,” she whined, barely coherent.   
  
By this point, seeing her usually calm and collected girlfriend begging and looking at her like she wanted nothing but to be fucked senseless, Yang had little brainpower to spare. She rubbed her thighs together a little to ease the wetness pulsating between them; then she backed up a bit on the bed. She spread her knees and leaned forward, one hand still pumping in and out of Blake, the other sliding over her own wet underwear.   
  
Yang lowered her head and licked a wet stripe from right above Blake’s vulva, short trimmed hair tickling her tongue, up to her belly button, never breaking her gaze from Blake’s feverish, dilated pupils. A desperate keening sound escaped Blake’s lips, and Yang unceremoniously wrapped her lips around her clit, licking large circles with a soft, pliable tongue.  
  
Blake’s hand came down to spread her labia for Yang, the other leaving the pillow to run its fingers through the blond hair on the head between her legs. Blake wasn’t even trying to hold back her moans and whimpering anymore, sensitive after coming, but still not satisfied; Yang stiffened her tongue and flicked its tip over Blake’s clit a couple of times before letting it go soft again, licking a slow trail alongside her inner thigh.  
  
She was still rubbing herself through her underwear, committed to taking care of Blake first but not able not to touch herself even a little with the sights and smells and tastes and sounds before her, but she heroically relinquished it to run her hands all over Blake’s stomach, finally resting firmly at Blake’s hip, holding her down.  
  
Blake was thrashing and keening, her hips twitching as she did her best not to buck into Yang’s mouth, babbling a steady stream of  _more_  and  _yes_  and  _please don’t stop, Yang, oh my fucking god fuck my pussy_. Sex was the only time you were likely to hear the f-word out of Blake’s mouth, but when she did start dropping it, did she ever carpet-bomb it.  
  
Yang decided to go for the kill. She added the pinky finger, earning the loudest moan up until that point, and picked up the pace, ignoring the cramp in her wrist, covering Blakes clit with her mouth and sucking harder, faster.   
  
Blake at last had enough. She arched her back and spread her legs further, her feet raising themselves from the mattress and toes curling, and came with a low “ _ohhhh ffffuuuuck_ ," in a wave of twitching, bucking and shuddering, clamping hard around Yang’s fingers, her cat ears flat against her head.  
  
Yang slowed her tongue down, licking more gently, but picked the pace of her fingers up until Blake swatted lightly at her head.  
  
“Alright” she panted. “I think I’ve had enough for now. Yang?”  
  
“Mmm?” Yang propped her chin up on Blake’s mons pubis, lightly flicking her fingers between her labia for some extra twitches, offering her girlfriend a sweet, smug smile. She was still hopelessly turned on, but nothing could compare to the way Blake looked right after coming - disheveled, flushed, lips still opened to gasp for air, her hands lazily wandering over her sweat-slicked skin. Yang’s eyes darted all over her, accepting the sight as her #1 reward for Effort and Excellence.  
  
“You’re perfect. You and your silly shorts.”  
  
Yang grinned and left a quick smooch on Blake’s swollen clit, getting a short gasp in return, before pushing herself on her arms into a crouch.   
  
“Do you want to lend me a hand, or are you too pooped?” she asked, sliding her hand down her stomach and inside her hopelessly drenched underwear. Blake shook her head, gingerly closing her legs with a wince.   
  
“I’m sorry, I need to catch my breath. After class, though…”  
  
“I’m holding you up to it,” Yang warned, and unceremoniously shoved her fingers inside herself, bucking her hips. She came within moments, throwing her head back with a series of small gasps. Then she flopped onto her side next to Blake, throwing her leg over her waist possessively.  
  
They laid in silence for a while, sated and lazy. There was still time before class - and, with their graduation right behind the corner and sun glowing happily on the clear sky, they wouldn’t be the only ones not to make it to first period. They listened to the muted, far-off sounds of the breakfast hall, the water sprinkler on the grass under their window, and they both idly memorized the heat of each other’s bodies and the way sun glared off their skins as one of the happiest small memories of their lives.


End file.
